The gates of the Patala Veins groaned as they slowly opened.
A wave of cold air rose from below—thick, metallic, ancient.
Kaal Aryav felt it first.
Not fear.
Recognition.
The black fog curling from the depths did not repel him. It welcomed him.
Mira Vanya hesitated beside him. "We can still turn back."
Above them, sirens wailed through Lohgarh. Searchlights cut across rooftops. The Yantra Sangh was tightening its grip.
"We don't have time," Kaal said quietly.
But before they could descend, an explosion shattered the silence.
The street behind them erupted in sparks and steam. A group of armed men stepped from the smoke—coats lined in crimson thread, metal gauntlets stained dark.
The Rakt Mandal.
Their leader walked forward slowly, boots echoing against iron pavement.
Tall, Broad-shouldered. Scars lining his jaw, One eye faintly glowing red.
Rudra Ashan.
"So," Rudra said, studying Kaal with unsettling calm. "The city's new ghost."
Mira stepped in front of Kaal instinctively, "We don't want trouble."
Rudra smirked. "In Lohgarh, trouble is currency."
Behind him, his men cocked steam-powered rifles. The air grew tense.
Before either side could move, armored units descended from above—mechanical cables snapping tight as Yantra Sangh soldiers dropped from hovering carriers.
"Void anomaly confirmed," a metallic commander announced. "All unauthorized parties—stand down."
Three forces.
One narrow street.
Steam rising between them like battlefield smoke.
Rudra clicked his tongue. "Looks like your value just increased."
Chaos erupted.
Gunfire cracked through the air. Steam grenades detonated, Iron shattered, Civilians scattered in panic.
Rudra moved first.
His gauntlet ignited crimson as veins of light spread across his arm. He punched forward—shattering a soldier's mechanical shield in one blow.
Blood Core activation.
Raw strength. Brutal. Direct.
Kaal watched, frozen.
Rudra fought like a storm—every strike precise, every movement efficient. Flesh and machine alike fell before him.
But the Yantra Sangh adapted quickly, Drones shifted formation. Sonic disruptors activated. The battlefield became a cage.
Mira grabbed Kaal's arm. "We have to move!"
He couldn't.
The sounds—the metal, the screams, the gunfire—they blurred together.
Then something inside him stirred.
The mechanical heart throbbed violently.
Black veins traced along his neck.
The world slowed.
Steam particles hung motionless in the air.
A bullet hovered inches from Mira's face.
Time fractured.
Kaal stepped forward.
He didn't think.
He touched the bullet.
It dissolved into ash.
Reality rippled outward from him in silent waves. Soldiers froze mid-motion, Explosions halted mid-flame. Even Rudra's fist stopped inches from striking another opponent.
Only Kaal moved.
And Rudra.
The crimson light in Rudra's eye flickered as he forced himself forward against the distortion.
"You…" Rudra muttered. "You're bending space."
Kaal looked at his own hands in disbelief, The air warped around his fingers like heat over fire.
"I don't understand it…"
Above them, the sky darkened unnaturally.
From a hovering command vessel, a massive cannon began charging—its core glowing gold.
"Sanctification beam primed," the commander announced.
The frozen world trembled.
Kaal felt something deeper awakening something vast and hungry.
A voice echoed within him.
Break the cycle.
His chest split open in black light.
The distortion intensified.
Buildings groaned as gravity twisted sideways. The street cracked in spirals, Soldiers screamed as their mechanical limbs malfunctioned.
Mira reached him.
"Kaal! Stop!"
Her voice pierced the chaos.
The distortion faltered.
For a brief second, he saw her clearly
terrified, but not of him.
For him.
The black energy flickered.
The frozen bullet dust fell.
Time resumed.
The sanctification beam fired.
Rudra reacted instantly—grabbing Kaal and Mira both, throwing them behind a collapsed steam carriage as golden energy obliterated half the street.
When the dust settled, silence followed.
Half the Yantra squad lay destroyed by their own miscalculated blast. The remaining forces retreated under emergency recall.
Rudra released them.
The crimson glow around him faded slowly.
"You're not just a ghost," he said, staring at Kaal with a mixture of curiosity and calculation. "You're a weapon."
Kaal shook his head weakly. "I don't want to be."
Rudra gave a humorless laugh. "No one in Lohgarh gets what they want."
Mira tightened her grip on Kaal's sleeve. "Why help us?"
Rudra turned away, signaling his men to withdraw.
"Because if the Yantra Sangh fears you," he said without looking back, "then you might be useful."
He paused.
"And because," his voice lowered, "whatever power you carry… it doesn't belong to them."
The Rakt Mandal disappeared into steam and shadow.
In the distance, alarm bells echoed again.
High above, in the golden sanctum of Surya Mandal, Acharya Virek watched through holographic projection.
"The Void responds to emotion," he observed calmly.
A priest beside him bowed. "Shall we escalate, Acharya?"
Virek's mechanical fingers interlocked.
"Not yet."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Let the child descend."
Back at the shattered gate of Patala Veins, Kaal stared into the darkness below.
Blood stained the iron streets behind them.
Machines smoked.
The city had tasted his power.
And it would not forget.
Mira stepped closer.
"Are you afraid?" she asked softly.
Kaal looked down into the black fog rising from the depths.
"No," he said.
And for the first time—
He meant it.
Together, they descended.
Into Patala.
Into truth.
Into the beginning of something far worse than war.